Millstone
by realfriends13
Summary: It started 137 days before. He never could save him.
1. introduction

They say that people who die young didn't live long enough.

I don't think that was the case for him, at least not entirely. Sure, seventeen years isn't really that much time for a guy, but I think there was something more important he missed out on, and it wasn't the length of his life.

I don't think he lived enough.

I don't think he had enough times to just sit with me in the park, smoking. I don't think he drank enough Beam Colas. I don't think he puked enough at the carnival with me. I don't think he got enough detentions. I don't think he copied off my homework enough times.

Looking back on it, it's like he barely lived at all. I guess, in a scientific way, he did; he breathed and walked and ate and stuff, and his heart beat fine and his brain worked okay. But the majority of his time doing any of that stuff was also spent worrying, and just being plain angry. He was angry a lot.

I don't know if I feel sad for him. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm just fine with this, any of this. I just don't know if I should feel sad for him. If anything, I think I'm even a little jealous of him. I think he knew all along what he wanted. That kind of terrifies me, knowing the real meaning of that now, but at the same time, I'm jealous of that. The certainty of what he thought, what he felt.

I think he was the only person I've ever known who actually knew what he wanted.


	2. insomniac

**137 Days Before**

 **August 23, 2007**

"That's gotta be, the most underhanded, irresponsible thing, I ever heard, and I can't take it!"

It was a warm night, August 23rd of '07. I had just stumbled on Wade, drunk, slumped against one of the outer brick walls of the park. The one in Old Bullworth Vale, with the central gazebo, the same place where Hopkins and that redhead chick knocked Burton over in one of the port-o-potties.

He was breathing heavy, blue eyes clouded over in that familiar hazy state he got in after raging around and breaking stuff. As if that wasn't enough to let me know, his bat was right beside him on the concrete, looking more chipped than it was last time.

He wasn't listening, so I had to nudge him with my foot, hard. I regret stuff like that now, but you gotta get me; Wade was almost fuckin' impossible to deal with when he got like this. He didn't get anything that wasn't violent or angry when he got like this.

"Didn't you get my text?" he asked, not even bothering to look at me or anything. "He threw me out. Again."

I remember sighing, kinda rolling my eyes too, maybe. Wade's old man threw him out same way you put a cat out at night; without thinking twice about it. Never really got why it bothered him so much, it was pretty routine to me by then at that point. Old man showed up with his whore, fought with Wade for some dumb shit reason, kicked him out, then Wade went off and vandalized somethin', or (tried to) beat up the wrong person. At that point, me and the guys (but usually just me) had to step in and haul his ass to school. I mostly just took him back to my ma's place in Bullworth Town, 'cause I knew he liked it there.

"Shit, man," I replied, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans, "my phone's dead. You shoulda just gone right to the apartment, you know my ma woulda let you in. You're just lucky I took a walk tonight, I was real close to just stayin' in and watching some movies or some shit."

Instead of answering he just stood up, using his bat for support. We didn't have to talk about the plan at this point; it was real simple. Wade was just supposed to follow me, either to the apartment or to school. Since it was summer, though, we were going to the apartment. Man, he could've walked by himself, eyes closed.

"You need to start wearing shoes, loser," he muttered so quiet I almost didn't hear it, "you're gonna end up with glass through your foot."

When I looked down I saw he was right; I didn't even remember to put on socks or anything. Same difference, though, I hated shoes-still do. Though, I do usually try and get socks on.

"Look who's talkin'," I shot back, annoyed by that point 'cause it was late and I was getting kinda hungry anyway. Being mad and worried about him both at the same time made me forget what I was doing: looking for some place to eat. Guess that doesn't make much sense, considerin' I was going the wrong way anyway, and all the good food places in the Vale are the other way down the road. For some reason, I always ended up walking around the park when I went out for night walks. Guess it came in handy, dealing with a guy like Wade.

Wade didn't bat an eyelash at my answer, he wasn't really much for talking after fighting with the old man. Said it drained him, or somethin'. I used to wonder what happened with Wade's sister, Christy, whenever he and the old man went at it, but I never actually asked him. Didn't wanna piss him off any more than he was, like hell he needed that.

"You hungry?" I said finally, giving up on being mad at him 'cause he's my best friend and you're not supposed to stay mad at your best friend for feeling stuff too long.

He said yeah, so we took a short cut to get to the burger joint faster. Burger's a real shitty place for eating, both me and him thought it, but Bullworth doesn't have any Burger Shots so that was what we had to make do with.

Place is open all the time, which sucks ass for the dudes that work there, but was pretty lucky for me and Wade, so we just walked in and ordered bacon cheeseburgers with ice cream shakes and the largest sides of fries they had. Heart attacks on plates, overpriced at that, but we still had our funds from last year's freshman class, so we managed okay.

We didn't stay at the place, though, mainly 'cause I was getting tired and the dude at the register kept eyeing Wade, so I knew he knew Wade was drunk, and he definitely seemed the type to call the cops. So we bailed outta there pretty fast, I mean, fast as you can when you're a drunk guy and a barefoot guy when no taxis are running.

"Your mom home?" Wade grilled me after a decent amount of miles walked, and I gave him a funny look at that.

"You ever seen her anywhere else?" I challenged, 'cause it was a stupid question. After the old man dipped out and moved back to Liberty, she didn't go much of anywhere besides Russell's house, sometimes, when his parents asked her real nice to have a dinner party.

Wade nodded, his eyes clouded over again, but not mad this time. "Must be nice," he said, voice just as weird as his eyes, "having her home all the time."

I didn't say much after that, 'cause Wade was acting weird and I never knew how to talk to him when he got like that, anyway. When he was like that, he wasn't the guy who was my best friend. And yeah, I know that sounds bad, but it's true, and he wouldn't mind my saying it anyway. When he got like that he wasn't the guy I became friends with. Sure, he was my best friend all the same, but I just didn't know how to get along with him when he was like that.

Sometimes I wonder if that was the key.

Anyway, we walked through the night, not talkin' much. Each one of us carried one of the handles of the plastic bag carrying all our grub in our hands, staring straight ahead, me walking kinda slow 'cause the glass through my foot thing kinda spooked me. Wasn't much to look at that time of night-I forgot to mention, it was maybe four in the morning. Wade and his dad fought late, I'm an insomniac. It worked out.

We had to walk real quiet through the apartment, it was small and the walls were thin, and I didn't wanna wake my ma up. Wade didn't say nothin' either, just kinda followed along like a dog would, and we walked into my room and he helped me pull the mattress out from under my bed. We kept it there just for him, which now lookin' back, maybe I should've taken that as a sign. He had to stay over at my place so often, I had to get a spare mattress for him.

Sittin' there in the dark got real quiet and boring, even with the sound of us chowing down the burgers and shakes and fries. I was almost asleep with a fry dangling outta my mouth when I heard him.

"You ever think about death and shit, man?"

I sat up, my eyes strainin' to see him with the dim glow of the streetlight shining through the crummy, dirty window in my room.

"Why you askin' me that shit for, man?"

I heard the scrape of his shirt against the mattress, and I knew he shrugged. "Just wondering."

Rolling my eyes, I turned back and let myself slump back on my bed. "Shit man, I don't know. Don't ask that type of shit this late. Just go to sleep, okay? Don't think about that type of crap. Y'know what, fuck your old man, just stay here, okay? We'll beat up some losers tomorrow and then watch all the Scream movies, cool?"

He chuckled. "Yeah man, sounds pretty fuckin' great."


	3. aurora

au·ro·ra

əˈrôrə,ôˈrôrə

noun

(literary) the dawn.

* * *

He was back to normal by the first day of school.

Everybody around school knows that the parking lot is our turf-and by 'our' I mean us white-shirt kids, the Bullies-except for the new incoming freshman. Me and the other guys took care of that pretty quickly, though, and after a few swirlies and a couple wedgies, the parking lot was filled with just us and a couple wanna-be tough guy greasers standing by the entrance to the shop.

Me and Wade were sittin' on the curb, minding our own business, eating a couple ham sandwiches my ma packed us the day before. He'd been stayin' at our house since that day by the park, which is actually pretty long compared to the other times. Guess his old man was pretty mad at him.

"I'm thinking about getting with a cheerleader this year," he pipes up to me suddenly, mouth full of bread and ham and cheese, "I mean, Thompson graduated and he and Mandy broke up anyway, yeah?"

"Naw, man," I say back, shaking my head at him 'cause of course he thinks of dumb stuff like that to say, "stay outta that. I'd never get with a cheerleader-they're so out of it."

He shrugged and I knew I hadn't changed his mind out of it. "Seriously man, why would you want to get with a cheerleader?"

"I just want to get with a chick before I graduate, man. It's senior year, and I haven't been on a date since sophomore year. It ain't fair! Dad even got me condoms so I can do it with chicks and stuff, y'know?"

I never really got that and I still don't. The condom part, not the girls part, I mean. Wade's dad hated him, yet he did shit like that for whatever reason. Maybe he just wanted Wade married and out of the house as soon as possible. I guess he got what he wanted, in the end.

"I'm telling you, dude. Not a cheerleader."

"Guess what happened last year with her and Texas Cowboy pretty much summed it up, huh?" Wade agreed, laughing and nudging me, trying to get me to remember that drama that went down with the football team last year. It was pretty dumb, and I didn't pay too much attention to it, but Wade thought it was real funny.

A few seconds after he said that, we got pushed forward and the rest of my sandwich flew out of my hand and hit the pavement. Directly after I see a flash of crappy, torn-up sneakers, and then two grease monkies running off-one with long blonde hair and the other with greasy brown hair.

"Fuck you!" I screamed after them, and the chick flicked me off without even looking back. They got a couple laughs from the other idiots by the shop, and then they all slipped into the auto shop, probably to hit each other with wrenches and shit. I dunno, greaser crap.

"See, I don't get that," Wade said, tearing off the part of his sandwich he didn't bite and handing it to me, "I don't know how greasers get chicks. I mean, why'd they got one and I don't."

I shrugged this time, 'cause I didn't have an answer for that and I still don't. "Guess they like the smell of oil and failure."

"Girls are retarded."

"Hey, amen to that, man."

We stayed quiet for a bit, 'cause we were focusing on Trent and Ethan fucking around with that loser Earnest. Crabblesnitch stuck him up as a 'prefect-in-training' or whatever, and there he was, standing in a prefect jacket that was two sizes too big for him while Ethan and Trent trapped him up against a wall, pokin' him and mocking him. It was pretty funny, but it didn't last long until another idiot came to bug us.

"What are you fuckers doing?"

We looked up and saw not one but two idiots standing in front of us-the kid with the red mowhawk, and his brother with the gelled up hair. He'd been the one who'd spoken to us.

"What's it to ya?" Wade shot back before I even got a chance to open my mouth, and the two of us stood up just in case these weirdos tried anything, but they didn't even flinch. Guess they didn't feel like fighting us, at least not today.

Blondey shrugs, looking at his twin all bored. "We just heard you guys talking about cheerleaders."

"Yeah," Mohawk added, "and we heard all about your predicament, Martin. And we can help."

Me and Wade look at each other for a bit, 'cause if there's one thing we know about these Walker kids is you can't really trust 'em.

"Can ya?" Wade asks, turning back to look at 'em all mad in the way only he looked at people mad.

"Yeah, for the low price of ten bucks apiece," they shot back together, kinda spookin' me a bit. I ain't too big of a fan of twins, ever since me and Wade hit the freak show for the first time in seventh grade. Those two Siamese twin chicks kinda spooked me about it. Man, I hate that place.

Wade rolled his eyes and sat back down, takin' an angry bite outta his sandwich. "Fuck off," he told the kids, his mouth full.

I was gonna argue, 'cause I wanted to hear more about this offer. I mean, it was most likely a scam, but you never know with Griffith's kids. Mighta been somethin' legit. But Blondey snorted before I could, and looked at his twin all pissed, and goes, "let's get outta here, Gage, fuck these guys," and they're gone before I can say anything. So I just plunk back down next to Wade, eatin' my sandwich all confused.

"This place bites, man," Wade mumbled, kinda mad, "I swear, after this year, I'm never gonna see Bullworth again. It sucks ass."

I didn't say nothin', cause I agreed. Whatever.


	4. syzygy

sy·zy·gy

sizijē

noun

(astronomy) a conjunction or opposition, especially of the moon with the sun.

* * *

It took a bit of convincin', but after a while I was able to get Wade talking to those weird Walker twins.

We found 'em one afternoon, after class, hanging out on the balcony by the second floor window of the school, sharing a cigarette and a slingshot to shoot greaseballs and preps at with without 'em seeing. It took a bit of convincing, and after five bucks from Wade and fifteen from me, we got the two to jump down to talk to us.

"Did the bully princesses change their mind?" The blonde kid asked, taking a puff out of the cigarette and handing it to his brother.

"Or did you just come to announce the wedding?" Mohawk finished, blowing smoke in me and Wade's faces and just a quick glance at Wade let me know he wanted to punch the kid. I grabbed his wrist and shook my head a little, 'cause I worked too hard to convince him to do this for him to screw it up now.

"First one, jackass," I say, pushing Wade back before he does somethin' dumb, "we came to find out how you were gonna help us get chicks. We got the twenty bucks you two wanted."

They looked at each other, and I swear they were talkin' to each other, through their minds and shit. So me and Wade kinda stand there, feelin' like a couple of jerks, so I nudge him and get him lookin' at me so we can pretend we're having some sort of secret twin conversation, too. It didn't work out too well.

"If you two are done staring longingly into each other's eyes, we're ready to make a deal," blonde kid says, irking me a little.

"We've upped the price, 'cause you hurt our feelings a little earlier by telling us to fuck off. We want thirty now, so cook up ten bucks,"

"or get lost," they finished together.

Man, they give me the creeps.

I roll my eyes, 'cause I know Wade blew the rest of his cash tryna help ma buy groceries, so I reach into my jean pocket and pulled out my last ten, slapping it into mohawk kid's hand.

He and his brother laughed, and for a second I thought they was duping us. But right before I was ready to let Wade punch 'em like I knew he wanted to, the blonde one slaps a piece of crumbled up paper in my hand.

"What the hell is this?" Wade shot out, snatching it from my hand and glaring at the twins.

They looked at him like he was dumb, glanced at each other like agreeing he was dumb, before Mohawk spoke out. "It's the time and place of a party, dumbass."

"What the hell are we gonna do going to a party, what, are all six girls in the school gonna be there?" I ask, cracking my fist and getting ready to fight these dumb kids.

"No, you fucking idiot," blonde kid snaps back, stepping up to me, "it's a public school party. Now you better back the fuck up from my brother."

Mohawk kid definitely didn't need any sort of backup, but I knew better than to start fighting two kids who were supposed to be helping us.

"We don't mean any trouble," I mumbled, taking Wade's arm and starting to drag him away, "thanks for the address."


	5. incipient

in·cip·i·ent

inˈsipēənt

 _adjective_

beginning to develop or exist

* * *

 **116 days before**

 **September 7th, 2007**

 **Friday**

* * *

The information they gave us was legit.

Wade didn't believe it was, knowing those two's reputation, but it ended up being a real address, and the party was happening.

Party was set on the seventh, I think, of September. I know it was a Friday, 'cause I had shop that day, and I know that 'cause I saw the two greaseball idiots who knocked my sandwich outta my hand the first day and I remembered being real pissed about it.

The bell rang, so I hopped that broken piece of wall by the shop before any of the throwbacks started shit with me, 'cause I didn't wanna get another black eye before the party and look bad for those public school girls. I already got one that ain't ever gonna heal-yeah, this one-'cause the capillary broke or whatever. I mean, not that those public school girls were really all that great looking, but you try being a single guy with a permanent black eye his senior year knowing he's gonna be at a party with chicks, even if they're not hot.

Me and Wade were supposed to meet right by the parking lot 'cause he wanted help getting ready, as if we were chicks or something. He was there before me anyway, and if that wasn't enough to tell me he cut class again, he reeked of cigarette smoke so I knew he'd spent the period smoking with Trent.

"You gotta start goin' to class, man," I said to him, shoving my fists in my pockets and knowing it was all gonna go in one ear and out the other, "I heard it's pretty important when you're trying to pass senior year."

He rolled his eyes, and I knew it all already flew out of his head. "I don't care," he barked, all mad 'cause I was talkin' about school to him, "grades are retarded. How's one stupid letter gonna make me better or worse than someone?"

We were walkin' back to the dorm, and one of those asshole nerds walked by, and heard him. Made the kid laugh, which ticked Wade off pretty good.

"You're gonna tell me this fat fuck is better than me 'cause he got an A on his prissy little history project?" Wade snapped, shoving the kid down and making his glasses fall off and crack on the concrete. Spooked the kid pretty well, and I gotta admit I felt a little lousy for him. Just bad luck he had to be a bit of a jerk around Wade when he was in a crappy mood. He split outta there as soon as he could get up, didn't even take his glasses with him.

"You didn't have to do that," I told him, checking the intersection in front of the gates to make sure no prefect was around that could've seen him, and then waved him through once I saw the coast was clear so we could make it to the dorm.

Wade rolled his eyes at that, crossing his arms. "Yeah, and his mom didn't have to give birth to him yet no one's knocking down her door."

I didn't argue with him at that point, 'cause he was getting an attitude and it was starting to piss me off, and I didn't wanna lose my wingman for the party tonight. And we definitely were gonna get in a fight if I kept pushing him-he was stubborn, and I guess I can be too. Maybe that's why we were such good friends.

The dorm was pretty empty, which makes sense considerin' half the school was probably off campus already enjoying themselves at the carnival or on dates and stuff. All the same, that just gave us better privacy to be able to fix ourselves up nice without some dweeb calling us boyfriends or somethin' like that.

"My sister thinks you should wear that dumb red button-up you wore to homecoming last year," he piped up when we walked into our dorm room, "said it was your color or some shit. Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean."

I listened good at that, 'cause I thought Wade's sister Christy was smoking hot. But I didn't say nothin' to him about it, 'cause you're not supposed to hit on your best friend's sister like that, especially if your best friend thinks she's the daughter of some other woman who his dad might've slept with. Judging by their birthdays, it'd make sense.

We ended up looking like the same couple of jerks we always did, just a little bit better dressed than usual. Half of me wanted to go and find Wade's sister and try and see if she'd put some of that weird skin-color make-up on me to hide the black eye a little bit, but I knew he'd be against it. He didn't like her very much, and he'd never let me live it down if I wore make-up to the party.

Neither of us knew anybody else that was going, so we just walked over to the Vale by ourselves. Russell and the guys were hanging at his house tonight-some gaming session-and nobody wanted to go to the party but us. I thought I heard a couple of the jocks and greasers sayin' stuff about goin', but we're not friendly with any of them so we had to go it alone.

"Dude, I am gonna _hook up_ tonight," he said all of a sudden while we were gettin' nearer to the address and hearing music pumping through speakers that probably cost more than me and my ma's apartment.

"What makes you think that?" I shot back, feelin' like teasing him for annoying me earlier with the whole nerd thing.

He gave me this look that told me he knew I was messing with him, so we just kept pokin' fun at each other as the party house came into view. Man, it looked wild. Public school kids and dropouts and even a couple of Bullworth kids all over the place, and a ton of chicks. I'm pretty sure the sodas were all spiked by the point we got there, and it wasn't even dark yet.

We'd high fived before we walked into the house, already having agreed that we'd both find chicks to hook up with before the night ended.

I still wish we'd just gone to Russell's instead.


	6. iridescent

ir·i·des·cent

irəˈdes(ə)nt

adjective

producing a display of rainbowlike colors

* * *

 **115 days before**

 **September 8th, 2007**

 **Saturday**

* * *

I woke up feeling sore, like I'd been run over by a truck, and from the way my head was pounding I probably had been.

It took a while for everything to come back, so for a little bit there I wasn't even sure it was all there. It came back, though, so I guess I wasn't that drunk. And don't gimme that look about underage drinking-we all say we don't but we all know we do, or did.

The first of my observations was that I was laying outside my apartment, on the sidewalk outside of the Chinese joint that was below it. Wade was standing beside me, wearing the same clothes from yesterday, fumbling around with the keys with this big, stupid grin on his face.

I tried to stand, but I kept doin' it too fast so my head kept aching every time I did, so I just settled for a cool lean against the wall behind me that probably looked more dorky than I realized.

"What happened, man?" I asked him, rubbing at my temples and just now realizing my shirt was covered in dirt and grass stains.

"I don't know. You started drinking and I lost sight of you pretty early on. I found you asleep in the yard an hour ago."

I remember wincing at that, real classy. "Any girls around?" I asked, soundin' like a real dork.

He gave me this look, this look that was like, 'man, I'm glad I'm not you' and he laughed. "There was one. Brown hair, standing by you with this weird look on her face. Kept poking you with a stick. I think she thought you were dead."

My face reddened at that, I'm sure it did, and I crossed my arms as he finally got the apartment door open and we started walkin' up the stairs to get to my room.

"Feel sorry for yourself later," Wade said, and for the first time that morning I noticed how damn excited he sounded, "I gotta tell you something. It's fucking great so listen up."

I was in the middle of pulling my shirt off when I just stopped and looked at him. I've seen Wade this excited about something only once in my life, and that was a week after I met him that two sodas came out of the vending machine when he shoved a nerd into it.

"I met a girl," he said simply, looking at me with this look as if he expected me to start jumping up and down and asking him all about the "deets" like his sister would do.

We stood like that for a real long time, him with that dumb giddy expression and me still expecting the juicy part-did he get laid? What?-until suddenly he got real mad and yelled 'screw you' and changed his shirt.

Laughing, I finished pulling my shirt off and grabbed one of the fresh ones my ma had washed last night and left folded on my bed. "I'm just playin' with you, dude. What's she like?"

Really I meant how big were her boobs. I don't think he got the point.

"She's so cool, dude. For one thing, she was totally fine with just making out. But it wasn't like what my sister does where she just makes out and moves on. While we were hooking up and stuff, we were like, talking."

He took a moment to catch his breath, he was that excited.

"She likes video games and shit and she's real funny and she knows how to play hockey."

"You like hockey?" I remember asking, 'cause that wasn't something about Wade I knew, and shit, I knew everything about Wade.

He shook his head as if I was just asking random crap. "Not the point, man. Point is, she's not a bitch. I got her number."

He pulled out a tiny crumpled up paper that I could just barely make out curly numbers written in dark blue pen on.

Snatching it from him, I took it in with wide eyes. Me and Wade never had a ton of problems with girls-sure we both had our share of girls who laughed in our faces-but never had one of us actually gotten something as committing as a phone number. I'm not even sure if either of us had ever had a girlfriend, save for this one pair of chicks we dated in freshman year who turned out to just want us to make their real boyfriends jealous.

"No shit, man," I said, still staring at the paper, "this is real?"

I knew he shrugged from the ruffling of his shirt. "I think so. I haven't tried it out yet, my phone's dead. You got yours?"

"Shit," I mumbled, feeling all over my pants to see where the hell I put my phone. Finding it shoved down my boxers-don't ask me how-I pulled it out and handed it to Wade, who didn't even bat an eyelash at the fact that I just pulled that thing outta my undies.

Flipping it open, he punched the numbers into the recipient box for a text, and then froze up as soon as he reached the actual text message box. He looked up at me with his eyes all wide and his face all serious.

"I don't know what to say."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I shrugged. "I don't know, man, I'm about as good with girls as you are. Just say hi?"

He followed my directions like a puppet, and I watched as he typed 'hey' into the box before pushing send. We both waited around like excited little girls, in my crummy three room apartment bedroom, the sunlight filtered in by my dirty window the only thing illuminating us.

We nearly screamed when the phone buzzed with a reply.

"'Who is this?'" Wade read aloud, and we both let out a big gulp of air.

"Of course, dumbass, she doesn't know who's talking to her," I rolled my eyes, though I didn't think of it neither, and Wade pointed this out real nicely by elbowing me in the ribs. While I tried to catch my breath he texted back who he was, and that he was on my phone 'cause his was dead.

The reply back was a lot better, and Wade grinned down at the screen as he read it to me. "'Oh hey, I was wondering if you'd text me back. Text me your number?'".

He looked at me real triumphant, like he'd just won some major contest or something, which to be fair he kinda did. If this girl was really everything he said she was-and, I'm assuming, hot-then he scored big time.

"What the hell are you waiting for?!" I demanded, feeling as excited as he looked, "Text her back!"

I mean, pick your poison, right?


	7. limerence

lim·er·ence

limərəns

noun

the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person

* * *

 **88 days before**

 **October 5th, 2007**

 **Friday**

* * *

Wade had been talkin' nonstop about this chick for weeks, and it had just been Monday on October 1st that I'd convinced him to let me meet her. Something about him not wanting me to embarrass him in front of her. Ha. I still can't get over that. _Me_ embarrass _him_. Said the guy who fell asleep during his one shot at a movie date with Pinky Gauthier in seventh grade.

We were meetin' up at the carnival. Wade didn't wanna go together, said him pickin' her up by hisself would look a lot more classier. Had it been any other time, any other chick, I woulda told him to go to hell with his dumb idea. Instead, I went ahead and let him, let him fall even more in love with her, 'cause I liked the effect she was having on him.

Now, it'd started out with the plan being we were gonna have a double date. But as soon as I suggested Christy, Wade said no on account of her being his sister and him not wanting her 'in his business' and all. Angie was out, too, for being Christy's best friend. Neither of us were too hot on Mandy, either, so she was a no (besides, anything she saw would be around the whole school in a week). Zoe Taylor was still with Hopkins, if anybody could believe that. Lola Lombardi wasn't even an option; we'd both seen the trouble she caused and neither of us wanted that. One by one, every girl at the school wasn't an option because she was with somebody else or a bitch or just a terrible person, so I ended up having to lone it.

I was waitin' there, by myself, smoking a cigarette 'cause I couldn't think of anything better to do. I remember being real peeved at Wade, 'cause we was late for the five thousandth time in his life, and I was thinkin' to myself that if I got in trouble by some cop for smoking that I was gonna blame him and pound him for it. Except I never would've hit him, 'cause he's my best friend and you don't pound your best friend for real unless he does somethin' real rotten, like eat the last piece of pizza without even asking.

It didn't take him long to show up, and he jogged up to me with a big stupid grin on his face, his arm around the waist of some brown-haired girl with the same smile on her face. I won't lie; she was real pretty. Must've been a sophomore.

"Hey man," Wade said, grinning to me and giving me this weird imitation of a 'bro hug' that he'd never done before, "this is my girl. Lainey, this is Tom. My best friend."

She gave me this real polite smile, one you didn't usually see on the girls back at the academy and I could see why he liked her so much. She didn't seem like the type of girl to string somebody along to make her boyfriend jealous, or make up some fake romance between her and a guy like Beatrice had about Hopkins last year. Too put it simply; she looked sweet.

"Hi,"I nodded, giving her my best impression of a polite smile that probably ended up lookin' a lot more awkward mainly than anything else. Still, she kept the same look on her face, either cause she was too polite to do anything else or cause she was about as love struck as Wade was, which was a lot.

We stood there like that for what felt like an hour, and I gotta say I was a little jealous of him. He looked real happy with her. So I was jealous and real happy for him at the same time, and it was so confusing it made my head spin.

It was Wade who broke the silence, which was weird, cause he isn't one to do stuff like that.

"So Lainey wanted to go on the Ferris wheel, if that's cool," he said to me, and the way he said it made it seem like he didn't really give a damn how I felt about going on the damn Ferris wheel, 'cause Lainey wanted to and that's all that mattered.

I gave him a weird look at that, 'cause he wasn't a Ferris wheel type of guy and he thought the guys that _did_ go on it were sissies. But there he was, standin' all hyped up in front of me as if that wheel was the best thing since sliced bread. So I shrugged and went with it.

Now, I don't know if you've ever been an honest to God third wheel in your life, but that was pretty much my entire night. I mean, we got in line for that stupid ride, and they forgot I was there. Just went off talkin' about something I didn't feel like paying attention to 'cause I was in a pissy mood, and then when we finally get to the front of the line, they just climbed into their compartment and shut it and went off. I had to ride alone in my own compartment like some chump. Man, he's my best friend but I swear, had anybody from school given me shit for that, Wade would've paid.

So I sat there for the entire damn ride, by myself and of _course_ the thing broke down like it always does. I spent twenty minutes of my life sitting in a Ferris wheel compartment that smelled like puke, just 'cause my best friend wanted me to meet his girl, who he was with in a whole other compartment. What's more, is after we all got off, they forgot to tell me they wanted _another_ go. So then I stood for another ten minutes, lookin' like I got stood up.

I won't lie to you. When they finally got off, laughin' and smiling like you see couples on T.V., I was ready to pound Wade into the ground. Same woulda gone for her, but my ma taught me not to hit ladies, even though everybody thinks that's sexist.

"Dude, Lainey's gotta use the bathroom," Wade shouted to me as if I cared at all about Lainey and her needs, "and I wanna hit the prize tent anyway."

He led the way, his arm wrapped around her waist, and I was about ready to leave. I had to remind myself this was my best friend for years here, and in all those years this was the first time I'd ever seen him happy to be with somebody who wasn't me. For Wade, that's a lot. Too much for his best friend to fuck up just 'cause he's feelin' a little jealous.

So we walked into the crappy prize tent, and Lainey went off to take a dump or whatever it is girls do in port-a-potties, and that's the story on how me and my best friend ended up lookin' at teddy bears in a carnival on a Friday night. The only thing that would've made it worse would've been if Trent had shown up with his stupid camera.

"So what do you think about Lainey, man?" Wade asked me, sounding real worried like he gave a shit what I thought about her.

I shrugged, still bitter about it and jealous as hell 'cause he was my best friend. "She's alright, I guess."

He woulda had a better reaction if I'd just reached out and sucker punched him in the gut. His face dropped, and he turned away from the cashier who was tryin' to give him the stupid pink stuffed bear and looked at me with more worry than I'd ever seen on his face. And that includes the time that Wiggins asked to see his phone after he'd taken pics of the test. (That's a story for another time, but I saved his ass that time.)

"You don't like her," Wade mumbled, more like just a statement than a question. He sighed, glanced at the door to the tent, and shrugged. "I guess you're right."

That was when it hit me. Why he made me come and third wheel him and his stupid date, why he looked like he cared so much what I thought about her. Hell, if I'd told Wade that we should ditch her and just head back to play video games, he would've done it. My opinion mattered most to him.

Made sense. I did spend all my life lookin' out for him, having his back. It's not a big deal. He had mine.

And then I sighed 'cause I knew I had to be the bigger person for the millionth time in my life. "Naw, man," I remember saying, annoyed 'cause I would've rather gone off to play video games but I knew I couldn't live with the guilt of ruining the one relationship that mighta been good for him. "She's cool. I'm just a little jealous I guess, I'm not used to having someone taking my best bud's attention all the time."

He laughed at that, took the bear, handed over his tickets, and led me outside the door. "Gay," he said to me, his voice light.

In retrospect, we should've opted for video games.


	8. cromulent

crom·u·lent

kɹɑmjələnt

adjective

appearing legitimate but actually being spurious

* * *

 **62 days before**

 **October 31st, 2007**

 **Wednesday**

* * *

Not a lot different happened between then and Halloween. I mean yeah, we still hung out and went to class and ate and slept and shit, but I guess it's not really all that noteworthy. My time with Wade took a big blow, mainly 'cause I didn't see him without Lainey unless we were in our dorm at night and even then he sometimes snuck her in. Not even to get laid or anything, all they did was talk or play on the arcade machine. I was gettin' real sick of Lainey.

It came as no surprise to me when on Halloween he gave me some half-assed excuse on why he couldn't pregame with me and the guys and why it'd be a lot better if he just went to go pick up—you guessed it—Lainey. Tired of hearing anything even remotely related to her at that point, I just shrugged it off and let him run off with his dumb cheap cologne.

That's pretty much how I ended up alone in the boy's dorm on Halloween of 2007. I mean, not alone, just without my best bud. It was me and the guys, even Russell had come down for the occasion. I gotta say, I was shocked when they said he was graduatin' last year, but he said Hopkins had a hand in it, or something. I don't know. That's a story for another time.

We had kicked out all the geeks and nerds and losers from the dorm, which was mainly just… well, nerds. That and a couple middle schoolers, and some freshmen. After that was done we just hung out in the common room, managed to hook up the T.V. to some horror movie I don't remember the name of and snack on some chips and beam colas. I was wearin' a Ghostface mask I'd found last summer when they cleaned out Griffith's dorm. Yeah, after… yeah.

Anyway, there we sat, me and the guys. I was on the floor with Davis—somehow I always ended up next to him if Wade wasn't there—while Ethan and Trent crowded on the couch with Russell. Troy'd gotten creeped out and gone off to play on the arcade machine, even though he said he wasn't scared. Baby.

I woulda been havin' a nice time if it weren't for Trent screaming every time some sort of jump scare popped up. Watching movies with that kid was like puttin' on the Saw movies for a group of toddlers. He screamed just like a little girl.

"Trent, I'm warning you, if you don't shut your trap I'll shove my fist down it," I told him after his eightieth scream. He replied with a real neat flip of the bird. Nothin' like a real, honest friendship.

A couple minutes later, right when I could just feel Trent about to screech again (I swear, my bones whispered to me, they were all 'c'mon Tom, brace yourself, it's gonna happen and it's gonna be the worse one yet man, he's gonna scream like a little girl and he might piss himself and it'll run down his leg onto your good shirt man, brace yourself') the light flips on and we're all distracted by Wade's voice booming from behind us. At least Trent didn't get to scream.

"Yo, yo, yo, guys," he says, all casual and of course he's got his arm draped over Lainey's shoulders. And then I realize he's wearin' mouse ears and so is she but she's also got a red bow on her head paired with a red dress that's got white polka dots on it and I realize they're fucking Mickey and Minnie Mouse. I could feel myself getting lightheaded.

"Haha, nice costume, Wade," Russell says from the couch, and it took a little bit not to roll my eyes at that. Yeah, I was doing my best to get rid of the 'she-stole-my-best-friend' jealousy, but I mean come on. Couples costumes? Where was the Wade I knew?

But Wade just grinned, and Lainey beamed, and reached for the hand that wasn't set around her shoulders. "Thanks! We thought it'd be super cute," she chirped in her sweet little girl voice. It was like when you get some dessert at a restaurant, and it's super sweet? Like, so sweet it kinda makes your eyes hurt a little and if you keep eating it you'll get a headache, and honestly it just kinda makes you a little bit sick. But you keep eating it 'cause I mean, when the hell are you gonna get dessert this sweet at home? But then you don't enjoy it and kinda have to swear off sweets for a bit 'cause it made you sick. Yeah?

"You look like a wimp," Troy mumbled loud enough for her and Wade to hear. Lainey kinda looked down at her shoes like she'd just gotten kicked, and it peeved Wade off plenty.

"Piss off, Miller," he spat.

Troy looked like he wanted to answer Wade for that one, but just as he was about to Trent hopped over the backrest of the couch and wormed his way in between Wade and Lainey, throwin' his arm around both of them and launching into some long fit about how he loved their costumes, mainly aimed at Lainey. I couldn't tell if he was hitting on her or just trying to keep the peace.

Wade kinda broke away from it to get a soda, and I recognized the face he had. He was still pissed at Troy for insulting him; my best bet was that he felt like a wimp too, but on some stronger level he wanted to keep Lainey happy. Even if it did mean catering to her stupid girly choices and costumes. I remember calming down at that thought; wasn't right to be pissed at him. He was just too in love with her, that was all.

I hopped up and made my way to him, grabbing a beam cola for myself. "Hey dude, you good?"

He gave me a tight smile. "I'm okay," he answered. He was trying. He was trying to be in a better mood. Maybe it was for me or maybe it was for Lainey, but it meant a lot.

"You gonna be good headin' out with your girl? You know how these things get on Halloween…" I pointed out to him, rubbin' the back of my neck. This was dangerous territory now. Wade didn't like having his decisions questioned, not even by me. Even the most nonchalant approach could set him off, and the last thing I wanted was him stompin' off in the other direction.

But he just nodded, turned so he was watching Trent talk Lainey's ear off. "Yeah. She says she's cool with it. I mean, it'd be cool if we could just not get in any fights…" he said, trailing off. I think he caught wind of the look I was giving him, 'cause Wade not gettin' into fights was crazier than a hen with a full set of teeth. "At least until I drop her off back at her house when her curfew hits."

Alright, that made sense. I nodded, and after a bit of prodding, we got Russell to start leading us all out.

We wouldn't be going far, just around campus. That was where the fun was, anyway. I mean, there was more stuff going on around town; the greaseballs and dropouts and Griffith's kids would be partying it up in Coventry, and the Preps probably had some sort of classy 'get-together' either in their frat house or in Old Bullworth Vale. But our real interest was on campus.

It was all to us, basically. Even if the Preps were on campus, they wouldn't be leaving their frat house. The greasers and punks were out, that only left us, the jocks, the nerdlings, and the other losers. But the jocks always partied on the football field—one of 'em had a birthday or something—and the rest of them were no threat to us. Hell, they were the entertainment.

Halloween's usually a blur to me, and this time was no exception. I don't even remember how, but I had an egg carton shoved into my hands within seconds of leaving the dorm, a carton that ended up smashed entirely upside Melvin O'Connor's back. And as he ran off wailing about his costume, I reached out to high-five Wade only to realize he was five feet away from me.

He was walkin' with Lainey, holding her hand and pointing at something in the opposite direction of us, but she was looking over his shoulder straight at me with wide eyes. Scared. Something told me Wade hadn't prepared her for how our Halloweens usually went down.

Even though it pissed me off a little bit, I decided to cool it with the pranks and fighting, mainly for Wade's sake. I'll say it again, it ain't right for your best friend to screw up the only decent relationship you've ever had in your life. I wasn't gonna do that to Wade.

But it wasn't enough. I could calm myself down, sure, but that still left five other guys to run around wild. Russell was handing out wedgies as if they were blessings and he was the Pope, and the rest of them were going wild with some firecrackers Davis had found while he himself messed around with the slingshot he'd found last spring after Hopkins took his.

We'd gotten around to the library and by that point, it looked like Wade was trying to calm down Lainey who looked like she'd seen a ghost. We kept on past a Volcano 4000 that nobody was standing around—everybody knew better than to get near those things—when suddenly Wade went down.

"You deserve it, bully!" A voice to the tune of Donald fuckin' Anderson screamed out from behind us. He was holdin' one of 'em fancy potato guns the nerds had built. He'd hit Wade with a fucking potato.

To say it was a mistake would be a terrible understatement. He was alone, for starters, and he picked the one of us with the worst temper to hit.

Wade was making an effort not to fight or anything for Lainey, but I swear, when I saw his eyes as he stood from that potatoing, they were red. "I'LL BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR SCRAWNY LITTLE BODY, CHUMP!" he roared and launched himself at the nerd.

Anderson went down instantly, and Wade went with him. All I could see was a blur of fists pounding down on the kid, and then sneakers hitting pavement while the other guys ran up to help Wade beat up this 92-pound kid. I glanced at Lainey, but I figured I'd rather be the guy who helped out when his best friend got hit than the guy who hung back to shrug at his best friend's girl.

"When I'm done with you, your jaw is gonna be wired shut! And you'll be eating through a straw!" Wade screamed at the kid, all of us punching and kicking and snarling and glaring. There wasn't a lot of room, and I touched the kid maybe twice. We backed up once he was done fightin' back and just left him there, on the concrete, crying for his ma.

The guys head off, high fiving and laughing, but I hung back a little bit. Lainey wasn't standing where she had been; she was trailing off in a speedwalk with Wade just barely managing to catch up to her. He grabbed her arm but she tore it from him and they broke out into a heated discussion I couldn't hear.

My ma taught me to pick the times I wanna listen in and I knew this wasn't one of 'em. So I walked along with the guys, trying to keep my eyes off Wade and his girl.

It was a good plan for a couple paces, and then I felt a hand grab my arm and suddenly I was being pulled back into the shadows.

"Man, what the hell?" I asked Wade. But then I quit it, 'cause he looked spooked. "Are you okay? What happened?"

He just shrugged, blue eyes wide and scared and running wild, reminding me of fish when you try and catch 'em with a net from their bowl. "I think me and Lainey just broke up…" he whispered.

And so it begins.


	9. panacea

pan·a·cea

pa-nə-ˈsē-ə

noun

a solution or remedy for all difficulties or diseases.

* * *

 **36 days before**

 **November 26th, 2007**

 **Monday**

* * *

I didn't see him again for almost a month. I mean, I guess that's not entirely true—I saw him in the dorm and around school but only for a couple minutes at a time, except for lunch. But he was usually jumpy around lunch, wolfing his food down and trying to get outta there as soon as he could. Lunch was the only time I could ever get a real good look at him, and it wasn't good.

His hair was a mess, stickin' up every which way so that he looked like the doll from _Child's Play_. That, and his eyes were sunken in and dark all around as if he hadn't been sleeping. It was weird and striking—purplish brown surrounding his blue eyes. He spoke fast, his eyes darting all over the place as if he was scared someone was gonna come and grab him at any moment.

In the dorm he was already asleep by the time I got there, only a shock of red hair visible from under his sheet, and him curled up in a ball underneath it.

Mondays, the guys and us usually had this tradition where we'd all go out to eat for dinner—to make the shittiness of Mondays a little less and everything—and Wade had been missing it since after Halloween. We definitely noticed it when it started happening, but nobody commented on it until that day.

"Hey Gurney, what's up with Wade?" Trent asked, his mouth full of a double cheeseburger and a little of it flying out and hitting me in the face. He was so fucking disgusting sometimes. I wiped it off, makin' sure to glare at him.

"Yeah," Ethan added, takin' the consideration to actually swallow before he opened his mouth, "he's never around anymore. You two break up or something?"

I wish. He would've taken that a whole lot more lightly than he was taking the Lainey thing. "I don't know," I answered, honestly. "I only see him when you guys see him. He's always asleep by the time I get to the dorm."

Trent shrugged, losing interest fast. Not 'cause he was a bad person or anything; this type of matter was just lost on him. As far as he knew, Wade was in the process of planning a surprise party or something. But it caught everyone else's attention, and they all looked up at me, worried. Trent even caught the gist and stopped eating for a second.

"He's not even talking to _you?_ " Davis mumbled, his eyes full of concern and worry and apprehension, even. He exchanged a look with Ethan and it made me uncomfortable, that everybody knew there was somethin' wrong with Wade and even I knew it but we also all knew that I had no clue how to deal with it.

He took a second before talking again. "That's not a good sign," Davis said, taking a deep breath and lookin' straight at me. "There's something else going on with him."

"You don't think I know that?!" I shot back instantly, feeling defensive. "Of course there is! It's that stupid girl, Lainey! Ever since they broke up he's just shut down!"

They all look taken aback by that, and it made enough sense. Years of being his best friend, he was rubbing off on me. "We're just worried about him, man," Troy muttered, looking up at me.

I sighed and nodded. "I know guys, just… I don't know what's going on with him. Look, I'm gonna take off, okay? I'm tired and… shit, maybe if I get there early enough I'll be able to talk to him."

Nobody said anything, just kinda nodded and gave me that look when a whole group thinks you're being defensive and stuff but nobody wants to really bring attention to it, so they all just let you carry on your way. So I said goodnight, threw my trash out, and strolled out the door back to Bullshit Academy.

The dorm was mostly empty, but I could hear some music playing from one of the dorms—just my luck, mine. Bracing myself for some discussion that was gonna be heated and uncomfortable and would probably end with somebody (probably Wade) crying, I opened the door and stepped in.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, the smell of pot. Honest, it was cloudy in the room. Cloudy and heavy, it was a wonder that the prefects weren't kicking the door down. Wade was in the dorm—awake for once—lying on his bed with a blunt in his hands, staring up at the ceiling as if it were full of stars.

"Tom Gurney," he mumbled, drawing it out long so it sounded more like _Tooommmmm Gorrrrrney_ instead of my actual name. "Welcome."

I really didn't know what to say. He was high as hell, obviously, with some guy that I'd never seen him hanging out with. Some guy who'd graduated last year, with his hair up in a mohawk and the tips of it dyed real bright green. He was wearing eyeliner, and his face was full of piercings—and I mean _full_. He didn't say anything when Wade greeted me.

"Hey man," I said back cautiously, takin' a step in and shutting the door behind me before some cop dog came barking, "what's up?"

Wade let out a long breath, with it coming a ton of smoke. He looked like a dragon. "What's up," he replied, making it sound like a statement instead of a question. "What's down. What's around. Really dude, who knows?"

I blinked at that, 'cause it sounded deep if you listened to his tone but content-wise it was a load of bullshit. I'd never heard Wade get 'intellectual' like that, and that moment right there I decided I never wanted to hear him get like that ever again.

"I'm gonna take off. Let me know when you need more," the mohawk kid said, straightening up and glancing at me, giving me this real shady smirk and wink before he strolled outta the dorm room before I could argue. He left the door open.

At that moment I got mad— _real_ mad. I shot after the dude and slammed the door shut, making Wade jump in surprise, and then slammed my hand down on his stupid boombox to shut off the crappy music he was blasting.

Wade blinked for a couple seconds, like he was really gathering himself. "What was that for?" he asked finally, real calmly, holding his blunt away from himself to avoid putting it out.

That alone drove me crazy. I reached out and grabbed the blunt from him, smashing it against the wall with my palm, ignoring the slight pain that came from the lit end until the thing fell apart and left an ugly mark on the wall. I looked at him, his arms splayed out like they did when he was getting ready to fight. "Are you fuckin' kidding me, man?" I asked him.

He shut his mouth, his jaw real tight and I could see his muscles. "Getting high with some asshole? Is that your dealer? Is that what you are now, some sorry fuck who buys drugs from idiots who graduated and stuck around ready to start selling shit to other idiots?"

He didn't say anything, just kept his mouth shut. He looked away from me, fiddling with his hands. I could tell he wanted a cigarette.

"Why are you doing this? Is it 'cause of Lainey?" I shouted at him, desperate at that point for some sort of reaction from him.

"Don't _say her name_ ," Wade hissed back, standing up and putting his hands on my shoulders, shoving me. And then he retreated, this horrified look on his face. "Sorry, man, oh my god, I'm sorry… but… but… but _fuck off!_ "

To sum it up, he looked as if he was losing his mind. He smacked himself on the forehead a couple times before shutting his eyes tight, and then sat back down on his bed. As if he was fighting himself. It hurt to look at.

I didn't know what to say. I mean, what could I say?

He stood up, grabbing his jacket and shooting out the door. Wordlessly, I followed, grabbing his arm in the hall. "Where are you going?" I demanded.

"I'm going out," Wade muttered, yanking his arm away from me. "Don't follow me."

All of this, over a girl.


	10. ethereal

e·the·re·al

əˈTHirēəl

adjective

extremely delicate, light, not of this world

* * *

 **23 days before**

 **December 9th, 2007**

 **Sunday**

* * *

Shit, I gotta admit, it took me a long time before I actually mustered up the courage to do one of those, uh… shoot, what are they called? Those meetings? The ones where you round up somebody's friends and family and talk to them about some aspect of their life, and basically make them feel so shitty and raw about the whole thing that they agree to stop just so that you'll all cut the sentimental bullshit and let them live their lives in peace? Intervention, yeah. One of those.

The guys were on board for the idea from the day I brought it to them. I got 'em all (Russell included) to meet me at the school fountain one day after class—a place that Wade wouldn't ever wander into, given that it was right in rich fairy, jockstrap, and greasebag central. Once they'd all gotten there—some later than others—I told 'em about what I had seen that day back at the dorm, and how I'd pieced together that Wade had been on shit for a while from what we'd seen after he'd broken up with Lainey. The guys wanted to go find Wade right then and there, hunt him out and make him stop.

But I didn't let 'em, I knew that if it was just me and the guys spontaneously barging up to Wade and telling him how to live his life, he would've shipped us all halfway to Hell, and he's still be stuck doing his crap. This had to be done right, or not at all.

I put more than my share of effort into it. I managed to get his sister to gimme five entire minutes of her time, away from Angie, and then faced the challenge of getting her to keep her mouth shut long enough for me to explain the situation to her. It took a couple starters and at least twenty minutes total of hearing about Mandy Wiles' latest crush (spoiler, not me), I managed to tell her the plan.

"Oh," she said, looking a lot less interested than I had expected even her to be, considering that I'd just given her solid evidence that her brother was borderline, if not, suicidal.

I remember starin' at her, my eyes real wide and confused, 'cause I couldn't even fathom how I gave more shits about Wade's wellbeing than she did. But then she shrugged, looking in the opposite direction. But it was different from all the other times I'd seen her do it. It wasn't that she was looking away because she wasn't paying attention, or because she was trying to see some new piece of gossip.

It was because she was uncomfortable as all Hell.

"If you think that's going to help, Tom, I guess…" she mumbled, and I dropped the act because it was the first time I'd ever heard her voice so quiet and unconfident.

There were a couple more beats of quiet between us before I decided it might be a good idea to speak up again. "Has this happened before or somethin'?"

If it had, I would've been shocked outta my ass. If anyone knew about Wade's going-ons, it was me. Shit, I knew more about Wade's life than even he did.

But Christy just shrugged, and I could tell that she just really wanted the conversation to end or to find some valid excuse as to why she had to leave it. "No, but you know how things work in my family, Tom. We don't really do this type of thing. But you're his best friend, you know him better than I do."

I did, so I didn't give it anymore thought, and I nodded to her and headed off knowing full well that I was giving it more thought and that any suggestion that I wasn't was bullshit, and that what she'd said had really made me uneasy. Because she was right; this approach might be completely meaningless to him, and therefore useless.

The intervention was set for Sunday, real early in December. In the boys' dorm where the sofa's placed, it was me and the guys and Christy sittin' on the couch and the extra chairs, waiting for Wade to show up. All of our noses and cheeks were tinted red from the cold weather outside, and Trent was shivering like a little kid because the idiot had decided to play a prank on Ethan and try to scare him outside. He'd forgotten that Ethan took the whole ninja thing seriously, and had ended up buried in a pile of snow. We wasted twenty minutes digging him out.

There was real light conversation among us, mainly 'cause we were all thinking the same thing, but nobody wanted to bring any attention to it. Someone real important to Wade was missing, and this fact was just glaring. I'd texted Lainey—I still had her phone saved in my messages from the day that Wade had texted her for the first time ever—but she hadn't answered. When I tried again a few days later, I got a little message back telling me that the number I was trying to reach had either blocked me, or had been disconnected. I'm shooting for the former.

Heavy footsteps behind us put out all the conversation, and when we looked, there was Wade wearing a black beanie and this ratty green army coat I'd never seen him wear before, ever. And we're talking about a kid who shared a damn closet with me.

"Woah," he said when he saw all of us gathered like some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, "what's going on?"

His voice was off. Raspy, deeper. Kind of light, as if he were slowly floating away from us. He'd probably been smoking something before he showed up, and when I got hit by the wave of an herbal scent, I knew he had been.

"We're worried about you," Trent shot out instantly, standing up, but he sat back down as soon as I shot one look at him. I'd worked too hard to throw this thing together just to have Trent start blubbering two seconds in and ruin it.

Standing up, I made my way over to Wade real carefully, kinda like how most people would when walking by a sleeping rottweiler. "Hey man," I greeted softly.

Wade just stared blankly at me, one eyebrow raised, his dark blue eyes searching mine. "What's going on, Tom?"

Just like that, when he said my name, I flashbacked to when I'd first found him high as all Hell when he had stretched my name out, and it was enough to make me yank him by the shoulders, shove him to the couch, and toss him down between Russell and Davis. Russell, instantly catching my drift, threw an arm around Wade and held him in place.

"You need to get your _shit_ together, dude," I yelled at him, hands on knees, getting real in his face. I had decided that it was time to cut the mopey shit and get real.

It pissed him off, fast. He tried to stand up but, luckily, Russell's grip was way too strong for him. "Oh yeah? You gonna give me life lessons, Tommy?"

And I gotta admit, that pissed me off real fast, too. "Better me than those bums you've been hanging around with. You're killing yourself, Wade. Over some stupid fuckin' girl you dated for what, two months? Open your eyes, buddy. The world's still turning. The sun's still rising."

"I told you _not to talk about her,_ asswipe!" Wade screamed at me, still resisting Russell's grip. Realizing it was hopeless, he started throwing kicks my way, but I managed to jump outta the way.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Wade!" Davis moaned to him, standing and joining me with this real pained look on his face, "Tom's right! You're gonna fucking kill yourself!"

Wade just rolled his eyes at that, unimpressed, but it knocked the rest of the guys into a frenzy. They went wild, some of them looking as if they were one push away from breaking into sobs.

"Don't let her get in your head like this, dude! Get her _out of your brain!_ " Troy cried, getting up and pacing behind the couch like he only did when he was muttering to himself about shit that he never revealed to us. His hands were on his head, tight, as if they were the only thing that was holding him together.

"You've still got all of us by your side!" Ethan insisted, talking to Wade as level and calm as he could, but the way his hands shook I could tell he was terrified. They trapped me, I couldn't look away, even when Trent started actually bawling on Wade, begging him not to "high himself" to death. Ethan's shaking hands woke me up. When I looked up everything was more colorful; brighter. This was real. Wade was in real danger. More than I had imagined.

"I suppose _you_ have something to say, too?"

The activity in the room all dropped at that, those eight words uttered by none other than Wade. But he wasn't looking at any of us; instead his eyes were stone cold and focused on Christy, sitting in a stray chair next to the T.V.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as if his gaze were heating it up or something. Her green eyes met each of ours for a moment, lingering accusingly on mine, before finally resting themselves on Wade's. For a second, I didn't think she would speak, but then she opened her mouth.

"Wade, if something happens to you, I don't know what I'll—…"

And she stopped as abruptly as she'd begun, took a big gulp of breath, got up, and ran out of the dorm. We heard the front door slam shut seconds later.

A new stillness was set over us, broken only by Russell, who'd been quiet up until that moment. He let out a cry before throwing both his arms around Wade, breaking into sobs. Between them,he screamed about how much he didn't want to lose his 'little buddy' and begged Wade to quit the drugs and to get clean.

"I'll stop," Wade assured him, awkwardly patting Russell's armpit 'cause he couldn't reach all the way to his back, "I'll get clean."

It seemed to be enough for the guys, who kind of relaxed a little and backed off once he'd said that. But his eyes were fixed on mine, and I could see something in them, something I never thought in a million years that I'd see coming from Wade to me.

He looked at me like he hated me.


	11. luminescence

lu·mi·nes·cence

lo͞oməˈnesəns

noun

light produced by chemical, electrical, or physiological means

* * *

 **19 days before**

 **December 13th, 2007**

 **Thursday**

* * *

Even though the intervention had pretty much seemed to be a success, and he said he'd get clean—promised, actually, when Russell stuck out his pinky and then all the other guys decided that was a good idea—we didn't really see him any more often. Well, at least I didn't. The other guys said they saw him a lot more often, around the dorm, in class, stuff like that. I only saw him during lunch and in the dorm; same as before. He never said much to me during either of these times, but I shrugged it off, figurin' it was just part of his withdrawal. If he needed me to stay away for a little, I'd do it for him.

Thursday of the same week that I'd made him go through that intervention, we were all sitting in the cafeteria on account of it raining outside. Mostly we just ate apples and bananas; Thursdays are when Edna serves her "famous" haggis, which is basically just boiled guts, stuffed with other shit that no man should ever be forced to eat. Bullworth ain't too good if you're a vegetarian, or if you like not starving.

All of us were there—save for Russell since he graduated and all—talkin' about nothing important. Girls, who was a dick and who wasn't, homework we needed to copy off each other or steal from nerds. Honest, it felt like old times. Normal, even.

"I may not get the best grades, but like, I can intimidate _anyone_ for homework and stuff," Wade commented, gettin' this look in his eyes that anyone but me would've brushed off. I could tell it bugged him, all the grade stuff. He didn't like being "stupid".

"I don't know why we even have to learn this junk," I answered him, propping up an elbow and lookin' straight at my best bud, "we're never gonna need to know fractions again."

It came as a real surprise when Wade only gave me this look that I can't exactly explain. Like he was… well, not _mad_ , I guess, but not happy with me either. It only lasted a second anyway, so I wasn't really able to give it a full analyzation, since he looked away from me to look at his phone. It had vibrated on the table, scooting a couple inches left and makin' everybody's serving of haggis jiggle a little bit.

Ethan was saying something to him but Wade didn't even notice. He was that absorbed by his dumb phone. I thought for a split second that he was gonna tell us all it was Lainey, finally giving him some sort of contact since Halloween, but instead he just stood up. "Gotta go, guys," he mumbled, looking at everybody minus me. "See ya later."

He strode off, typing something in his phone and then shoving it back into his back pocket as if it didn't even really matter to him. Guess it wasn't Lainey—he probably would've called in that case, or at least had started crying or some other inappropriate emotional response like that. He was just like that. His hand trembled as he put the phone away.

That caught my attention, but only mine. None of the other guys had even noticed it, they just waved to him and kept on talking about how much nerds and homework sucked. But I kept staring after him, even after I couldn't see him no more. His hand had been shaking.

Wade had a real steady hand. He'd kill me for saying this, but it was why he was so damn good at sewing, or pretty much anything that needed precision. I remember Mr. Tyler, the Home Ec teacher, thought Wade shold make somethin' to enter in a contest. But Wade said no; he was to embarrassed about it. Said sewing and knitting were girl hobbies. He wasn't no girl.

I got up too, mumblin' some lame excuse about having to go see a teacher. It was half-assed and the guys didn't believe me for one damn second, but none of them argued with me about it and that was what really mattered. I headed off after Wade, following where I figured he'd gone—out the front door—and looked around, shivering in the cool December rain.

It was real lucky for me that he had bright red hair, 'cause that was the only thing that gave me any sort of real indication as to where he was and where he was going. He was headed towards the library, somethin' weird for him. Feeling like one of those ninjas Ethan was constantly obsessing over, I followed after him.

I was maybe twenty yards behind him, not that it mattered. I coulda been walking right alongside him, talking his ear off about anything, and chances are he wouldn't have even noticed. He was too focused on his phone.

He took a left into the library area, getting more than enough odd, judging looks from the nerds, but they backed off once he shot them angry glares, instead taking a lot more interest than normal in the concrete and their umbrellas. Wade kept on, heading to the wall off to the side, hopping over it, and strolling through an old door that had a keypad that had stopped working about a year ago.

I had to wait a little before hopping over the wall myself, knowing that if I did it too soon after him he'd hear me and then the whole thing would've been blown.

I fell when I jumped over, landing harshly on my ass and getting it all muddied as if I'd just crapped myself, smacking my knee on the wall real hard. I kept in the cuss, even though it hurt like a bitch, and kept going after him.

The whole situation was getting real creepy. Just the entire fact that he was taking a stroll through the forgotten grasslands of the school in the middle of a storm. In the distance I heard the bell ring, meaning I was late for afternoon classes. I figured this was more important, though.

We walked all the way to the old observatory. Supposedly they were fixing it up after the "potatoing of '07" as Wade called it, but they had paused the reconstruction a little before school started. All the machines and junk were still there.

It felt like slow motion, as I watched Wade walk up to the same kid with the mohawk and piercings I'd seen before. Wade handed him a wad of cash bigger than I'd ever seen him with, and in return Mohawk kid gave him a plastic bag. From the distance I was at, plus my shitty eyesight my asshole dad gave me, it looked like blue candy. I knew it wasn't.

Mohawk boy strolled off, clearly pleased with the cash he'd scored, and Wade hung back. I watched as he shoved his hand in the bag, yanked out a pill, and started to put it in his mouth, getting ready to dry swallow it.

"You gotta be fuckin' joking, man."

I'd stepped out from behind my rock on autopilot, staring at him dead on. There was a huge distance between the two of us.

He pulled his hand away from his mouth, holding it shut real tight. He just stared back at me, trying to look tough. I could tell he just didn't know what to say to me.

"You promised," I snarled, not stepping any closer to him. "You promised _Russell_. You promised _all of us_."

Still, Wade just kept his fucking mouth shut like some little kid. It was becoming way too often of a thing, me confronting and him clamming up like a baby. Just crossed his arms. He looked at the football field for a second, opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

"So nothing worked?" I asked, my voice sounding weird, even foreign to me. "Not me _begging_? Not your sister crying? Not the _guys_ begging? Would you have stopped if _Lainey_ asked you to stop?" I said her name with venom. _She_ caused all of this.

It pissed him off, but it didn't get the reaction that it used to get from him. He'd gone numb, even to her name. I should've… I should've _realized_ what that meant.

"All _this_ ," I hissed, my breaths getting shorter and shorter as less oxygen reached my lungs, " _all_ of this, over a fucking _girl_ , Wade. Over a goddamn _girl you dated for two fucking months_ , man."

My voice raised a bit at the end when I said that, and I could feel myself getting lightheaded. Dark spots appeared in my vision. My teeth clenched so tight it hurt. I was beyond pissed.

But Wade still stayed calm, and our roles were reversed. I was the one seconds from tearing something apart, he was the one keeping his head. It was as if nothing was affecting him. He just shrugged, shoving the ziplock bag into his back pocket.

"You never could save me," he said simply, turning and walking in the direction of the football field.

I saw red when he said that, I swear. I ain't one to lose my shit, but when he said that, I almost tackled him into the ground right then and there. I wanted to, I really did. Years of friendship were the only thing that kept my feet stamped where I was standing. Imagine, a guy ready to maim his _best friend_. It ain't right. I won't ever say it's right.

"And I don't even wanna _fuckin'_ try, you _fucking asshole_!" I screamed after him, turning 'round and storming off in the direction I'd come from, mud splashing underneath my shoes.

 _I_ was the fucking asshole.


	12. absquatulate

ab·squat·u·late

abˈskwäCHəˌlāt

verb

to leave without saying goodbye

* * *

 **2 hours before**

 **December 31st, 2007**

 **Monday**

* * *

It started out like any other day, I guess… I woke up to a dark, empty dorm room—he didn't wanna sleep in there after we had that fight, and since I'm a stubborn asshole I didn't argue or make any point as to why he should stay in there. I don't know where he was sleeping, but then, I didn't care. The guys told me—no, _begged_ me—to please try to convince him, please make up, but I was pissed, and I felt crappy, so I said no.

That morning I threw on the usual outfit, which isn't hard when your whole wardrobe is the same white button down and an assortment of jeans. Same shoes I'd been wearing since sophomore year when my feet supposedly stopped growing; they were a little tight, but it wasn't as if my ma could be dropping $40 every time I needed new loafers, so I just dealt with it. I didn't bother shaving—always been one of those guys who can't grow a beard, or anything resembling one. Wade used to make a lot of fun of me about it, even though I'd never seen anythin' on his face other than a pimple.

Breakfast was a real bust, though. He didn't show up there either, I mean, but the guys jumped on me about it the second I sat down at the table with a tray of soggy toast and moldy orange juice.

"We're worried, dude. Nobody's seen him in a long time," Davis insisted, his tray empty in front of him. As a matter of fact, all of their trays were empty. They just showed up to hassle me, I swear.

Ethan nodded and I knew I was in for another lecture from him. He'd stepped up as the voice of reason or whatever since Russell graduated. "It's not good for you two to fight, you know it doesn't work like that," he added, nudging me lightly with his elbow.

It was annoying. I was convinced that it wasn't my damn job to keep him around, not my job to keep him happy and grounded when he was just so goddamn _bent_ on spiraling out of control. I… I didn't want to be his _babysitter_. That's how low I thought of my own best friend.

So I kept fighting them and resisting their logic. "If he wants to run around acting like a wanker then let him," I spat back, and because I was a stubborn jackass, I stood up and dumped my tray in the garbage. Then I stormed outta there real fast, knowing full well that they'd just launch back into the act as soon as they got a hold of me again. I didn't care. If Wade was allowed to have temper tantrums and lock himself in his room to scream, then damn it, so was I.

Because there was still some time left before first bell and I didn't wanna go back to get some more sense talked into me, I headed straight for Wiggins' class, figuring it might do me some good to get to a class early for once in my life. Maybe if I could get on his good side he'd be more open to giving me extra credit at the end of the semester when my grade would definitely be in the shitter. I tried to pretend I didn't think about how I'd be able to get a seat far from Wade. The idiots in that class always left the same two seats open for us, and since we were late, we had to sit in them because nothing else was available. It was nice when we were getting along, but when we were pissed it was irritating.

Wiggins didn't even look up when I walked into the classroom. I guess he didn't care. Or maybe he didn't hear me. I don't know. It's hard to remember.

I'll never understand why people bother with coming into class early because there's a whole lot of nothing to do. You don't get to pretend you're paying attention or sit through the struggle of keeping your head up even though you're falling asleep because there's no reason to. It's just silence, you and your teacher, both of you wishing you'd just been late. Both of you wishing you were anywhere else but in there.

There's nothing but your thoughts for comfort and that's when I started feeling rotten, but not because of the fact that I was being a dick to all of my friends or anything. Just a feeling as if I'd been sucker punched, same one that I'd had when I walked home the day my dad left.

The class started filling up, kids walking in with real dead and exhausted looks on their faces, most of 'em probably hungover after a long weekend of partying, drinking, and hooking up after the prefects when to sleep.

Somethin' in me had me staring at that door, waiting for Wade to show up. Was he dead in a ditch somewhere? Maybe I shoulda made a bigger effort at forcing him to get clean. Told on him, maybe, even if it meant getting him suspended. At least he'd get the help he needed.

I knew Wade, I realized, as time went by and didn't come in. I knew he wasn't gonna be looking for any sort of help for any sort of issue in his life because that wasn't the way that he dealt with things. He broke things and smashed up the park and then waited outside it for me to come pick him up when he was upset. He didn't know how to deal with himself or control himself and if it weren't for me, he probably would've killed himself _years_ ago.

The bell rang and class started, but Wade still hadn't shown up. Wiggins made note of the fact, muttering some snide comment about how he wasn't shocked that yet _another_ pupil had overlooked the importance of his lesson, before hobbling his way over to the chalkboard and starting to write something about Islam, I think.

The buzzing and ringing in my backpack distracted everybody but me, 'cause I was still looking at that door.

"Mr. Gurney, if you could please turn that noise _off_ ," Wiggins bellowed, turning around and glaring straight at me with those beady old eyes.

I almost jumped outta my skin. He caught me off guard. Realizing what was happening, I muttered a shitty excuse for an apology and reached down into my backpack, not even glancing at the screen as I rejected the call.

"It's off," I assured, letting it fall back into my pack and nodding to the chalkboard as if telling him that I was ready for some real learning and enlightenment.

He didn't even get to turn all the way back around when the stupid thing started ringing again. I mentally cursed whoever was calling, deciding that they were in for a real pounding the second I saw 'em.

"If your phone calls are _so much_ more important than my teachings, why don't you go _answer_ it?" Wiggins demanded, shaking his head as he continued writing shit on the board. I sighed, knowing full well he was being sarcastic, reaching into my bag again to shut off my phone. But it only took one look at the screen to know I was gonna be answering that call.

So I got up, walked into the hallway, and took Wiggins seriously on his sarcastic offer.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"It's a nice day."

My heart was racing, eyes trained on some locker that I didn't know whose it was. It had a sticker of a bell on the corner. "You haven't been in the dorm for weeks. I thought you ran away to join the carnival or something. Where are you?"

Wade took a second as if he were considering his words. I heard him let out a shaky breath, followed by some whistling that I was pretty sure was the wind. "I really fucked myself up, huh?" he asked finally.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"There wasn't any way I was gonna get my shit together," he admitted, ignoring my question. "I let her get into my head, right? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped all my bullshit on you like that, not again. I've been using you like some fucking self-indulgent toilet. I'm a shitty friend."

I gulped hard as he said that. I didn't like the tone. "You're my best friend," I said simply.

He laughed at that. "I'm a crappy friend and you know it. You just don't want to admit it because you're actually a good person."

I shook my head before I realized that he couldn't see me. "Where are you, Wade?"

"I'm almost home," he mumbled quietly into the phone. "Thanks, okay?"

He hung up after he said that. I shot down the stairs and out of the school.


	13. quietus

qui·e·tus

kwīˈēdəs

noun

death

* * *

 **5 minutes before**

 **December 31st, 2007**

 **Monday**

 _"the ship of fools I'm on will sink/my own stone around my neck/be my breath, there's nothing I wouldn't give"_

\- Millstone, Brand New

* * *

I've heard shit about people doing amazing stuff when they're scared, worried. Something about adrenaline or whatever, I don't know. Mothers lifting cars off their children and babies. People bending solid iron bars. Mountain-climbers surviving extreme cold. I think that's what was going on with me that day. I got on my bike and knew exactly where I needed to go.

I was pedaling and moving my legs as fast as I possibly could, feeling the muscles on my thighs screaming and begging for me to stop. But I didn't care. It was my best friend and I knew that somehow, for some reason, he needed me. More than he'd ever needed me ever before. It was the fastest I've ever and will ever bike. But still, the longest ride of my goddamn life. It felt as if I were just strolling by, the wind gently and carefully hitting my face. Snow crunching real delicate under the front wheel. I just couldn't go fucking fast enough.

The reality is that I was probably at City Hall within a minute of leaving the school. Still, it felt like days before I got there and threw my bike into the grass, holding my breath as I looked to the top. Hoping he wouldn't be there but knowing he was. Knowing it was better than him being on the ground.

When I saw him, the crisp winter air swam over my face like the waves on a beach and I felt my insides crystalize. He was standing there, red hair and blue jeans contrasting against the pale winter sky at the top of City Hall. And yet, I was the only fucking person who'd noticed him. Hopkins' 'bullworthless' tag from last year loomed behind him like a big, purple monster that he was running away from. It killed me.

He saw me in just a few moments and I saw him look around, panicked, before settling his gaze on me. "Don't let me do this to myself," he called down to me, his voice echoing. I swore I heard the church bells ringing in the distance.

My phone was by me in a second. Ringing. Waiting for him to pick up. Praying for him to pick up.

"Go home, Thomas," his tired voice mumbled into my ear through the phone as I stared up at him, my mouth agape.

"Please don't do this."

He sighed on the line and I saw him pull his hand up and run his fingers through his hair. "Go home," he repeated, voice distant as if he were three thousand miles away from me. "You don't got any business being here."

I swallowed the sob that I felt bubbling up my throat, feeling like a chump. "You told me not to let you do this to yourself. I won't let you."

"I had stage fright," he answered casually.

And then I knew he'd made up his mind about this and there wasn't really any use in me trying anymore. When he started getting casual, blunt about shit… that was when he'd decided. That was the thing about Wade. You had to keep him raging. That's how you could keep him safe.

"You're my best friend," I whispered.

He sighed again, and I could picture him closing his blue eyes. His voice was shaky when he spoke again. "And you're my best friend. If I lost you I'd go to shit. But you won't without me. You know you won't. I drag you down. I drag everybody down. It's time for me to go."

I shook my head, eyes still fixed on him, thousands of feet away from me. "I can't lose you, man. I can't. I can't do this without you. Don't leave me alone."

We were both crying by then. "You know I can't stick around, Tom," he moaned into the phone as if he were in pain. "I can't watch you waste your life trying to fix mine. It's done, okay? I'm just fucked. I was fucked from the start. This mess never should've fallen into your lap and I'm sorry it did. But we both know you're going places, even if I ain't there to fuck it up. I'm not going anywhere."

"No," I mumbled, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I'll see you when I get back," he said to me for the millionth time in his life before hanging up and throwing his phone somewhere I couldn't see.

And as I watched him fall I knew that nothing I'd ever done had ever mattered. None of the midnight talks where I convinced him to wake up the next morning, none of the times I picked him up at 3AM in the park, none of the laughs or the fights or the intervention or the prayers. Nothing I'd ever done could ever have ever changed this outcome.

I couldn't look when he hit the ground but I couldn't look away either. It doesn't matter. I don't remember anyways. All that's there is just a blur and people pushing and shoving and screaming and my legs moving as if I were wading through cement. A cop pulled me back by the arm, telling me I had no business being here.

"That's my fucking brother," I choked out before I could think about it before I fell to my knees, ten feet away from my dead fucking brother, slamming my fist into the ground as the tears poured out of my eyes. Cussing out God and Zeus and every form of divinity I could think of because I didn't care how shitty he could be, he never deserved something like this.

So I cried. I screamed to the clouds and cried and let my feelings bubble out of me like some sort of shitty champagne right there on the dirty streets of Bullworth Town.


	14. hiraeth

hir·a·eth

hiraɪ̯θ

noun

a homesickness for a home that you can't return to, or that never was.

* * *

News about what had happened spread fairly quickly. I heard Crabblesnitch even made an announcement about it, moment of silence and everything. I wasn't there for it. I was at my ma's house, trying to deal with it. Dealing with the funeral. His parents, they were paying for it. But everybody knew I was in charge of it. I'm not really sure how that went, either. It was miserable. It feels like a nightmare.

When I finally got back to school, nobody really knew what to say to me. I guess I can understand that. What do you say to somebody who just lost their brother, watched 'em take their own life away? Not a whole lot. The only good bit of it was that I didn't have to say anything to the boys about it. Crabblesnitch's announcement took care of that for me, and they knew better than to ask questions.

We sat in the parking lot that day, the same spot where Wade and I talked about chicks what felt like a thousand years ago. It was cloudy, real muggy, it'd been like that for the whole week. But we sat outside anyway, in silence, all of us side by side without saying anything. There wasn't anything to say.

Kids stopped by, one by one. A couple of the Jocks brought us bags of chips and sports drinks. Mumbled a couple sorrys and were on their way. After that came Jones and Pee Stain, offering a couple comics. Trent thought they were pretty cool, but he didn't really say anything other than a quick thanks. Nerds seemed a little surprised nobody got a wedgie. Didn't stick around either.

After the Nerds were a couple greaseballs. They didn't talk a lot either, but they gave each of us a beer and went on their way as if nothing had happened. We drank 'em with a couple fancy finger sandwiches some prep had dropped off.

The Walker twins came by, too, representing Griffith's kids, I guess. They only talked to me.

"Sorry," the one with the mohawk said. "He seemed like a cool guy."

"We know what it's like to lose somebody," the other one said. "It sucks. Time keeps on, y'know?"

They handed me thirty bucks and left.

I guess it does.

...

The officer put his pen down, at a loss for words. The boy had long since started crying, but it was a silent one in which tears merely fell from his eyes. He offered the boy a box of tissues, but Tom waved them away again.

"What made you want to come in today, son?" he asked Tom cautiously.

Tom took a moment, considering the question. How could he answer it without sounding dumb? He took a breath. "I… I don't know. I wanted you all to know he wasn't just… just some suicidal basketcase. He was my brother. He was a hotheaded jackass but he wasn't a bad person. He just… He just opted out a little too soon.

The officer nodded, unable to think of a reply. He didn't think Tom's testimony would really make a difference to the department; the Martin case was a clear suicide. But then again, Tom didn't seem as if he was trying to instigate further investigation. Officer Williams could understand Tom needing to talk to someone about his friend. He imagined if Norton were in Wade's case, and realized he'd appreciate one of Norton's friends doing what Tom was, despite the misfortune of the occurrence.

Tom let out a sigh, deciding it was time for him to go. "That's… that's all, I guess. Thanks for taking the time to listen," he muttered, stretching his hand out. The cop eyed it for a moment before returning Tom's handshake, and soon after Tom was out the door.

It was a muggy day. Wade had died almost a year ago.

Sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Tom began making his way to the graveyard. He hadn't been in a while. Not out of laziness, it was just these days he could almost hear Wade telling him to let him go. Stop tiring himself out. Maybe he'd leave Bullworth after today.

The walk was quiet and lonely, but Tom didn't mind. He wasn't really in the mood for talking. Staring at his feet for once was pretty calming.

By the time he arrived at the graveyard, it was dark out. A hooded figure was exiting, one that looked up as Tom's footsteps approached. He found himself looking into the tear-stained face of Christy.

She stared at Tom before collapsing into his arms. "Oh, Tom…" she moaned, her voice full of pain, arms wrapped around his neck. Tom let out a long sigh and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her coat-covered shoulder.

She released him after a minute or so, wiping at her eyes and ruining her make-up. She avoided Tom's eyes, instead staring at the ground ahead of her. "He's happy today," she whispered. "I can feel it."

Tom nodded as Christy continued on past him, her sniffling audible. He didn't go after her. She wanted to be alone, and he did too.

As he neared the grave, he could hear the mass being conducted inside the old church, and something deep in his chest told him Wade was happy today, too. He placed a hand on the top of the stone and confirmed it, even though his eyes welled up with tears again.

He lost track of how long he'd been standing there. In his mind, he'd been having a conversation with Wade. Wade was talking about how lame it was the mass was so loud, and boring. It wasn't ever that boring when he'd accompany Tom's mother to church on Sunday mornings. Plus, it was annoying that they'd put his middle name on the gravestone. What kind of stupid name combination was Wade Jeremy? It made him feel like such a loser.

"Oh," mumbled a quiet, feminine voice behind Tom, and he turned around, his thoughts disintegrating away from him. He could almost feel Wade pull away from him, and it sent a minor shock of pain through him.

Lainey stood, dressed in a red coat, holding a trio of roses in one hand. She stared at Tom as if she were scared of him.

"I… I come here sometimes…" she whispered, looking at the roses intently to avoid Tom's gaze. Tom nodded, not answering. He knew it wasn't her fault exactly but… he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but blame her.

"I was just leaving," he lied, his hand still on the grave. He turned to it once again, pulling his hand away for a moment to light a cigarette. He put it to his mouth and then took another, placing it down at the base of the gravestone. He gave it a final pat, muttering a goodbye to Wade.

With that, he strode off, past Lainey, offering a curt nod. He couldn't hate her because Wade had loved her, but he couldn't forgive her, either. She was the last person Wade had texted, though she hadn't replied. Tom couldn't forgive her.

The graveyard gate creaked as Tom passed through it, down the dirt path. He was going home now, too.


End file.
